


Freak Fiasco!

by YourMonarch



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Blood, Bloodplay, Cheating, Gore, M/M, Murder, Violence, but that's just how jack does things, slight non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 19:03:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7186283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourMonarch/pseuds/YourMonarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack catches Rhys cheating on him with a Hyperion lackey, and what does he do? Murder the sonnovabitch, of course!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freak Fiasco!

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, if you didn't catch the tags... There is lots of blood, gore, and slightly non-consensual sex in this!!!  
> Jack murders, Rhys suffers, the whole shebang!
> 
> Anyways, this work was inspired by the amazing artist, zer0-ner0! You can find them on Tumblr and Deviant Art. Go check them out! :-)
> 
> In specific, this work was solely formulated off of this super-duper piece of work they did:  
> http://zer0-ner0.tumblr.com/image/135216741043

Rhys knew it was wrong - to have a quick fuck behind Jack’s back. But Jack had been so...so impudent, lately. He was always agitated (not that he wasn’t always frustrated with something, but his attitude was just unbearable recently), he was more absent than he had been in a _long_  time, and in all honesty, Rhys’ body was acting like a growing teenage boy. He had his needs.

It wasn’t like Jack would mind too much. Jack was always fooling around with someone, whether it was flirtatious looks and names, all the way to ass-grabs and quickies. Rhys knew better than to bring up his more than negative outlook on the whole situation, so he kept his mouth closed and let it happen. It was only this once he had gone behind Jack’s back anyways. If he didn’t tell anyone, Jack was none the wiser, anyways.

Long story short, Rhys found some lackey making eyes at him in the Hub, and he might’ve gotten carried away shimmying his ass and pursing his lips to tease the guy. They met in the middle, got a little handsy behind one of the grub places, and now here Rhys was, stupidly letting this guy into Jack’s office and penthouse, and getting his sex fill.

“OH, _yeaaah_ , just like that,” Rhys drawled with a lazy tongue, face smushed against the hard material of Jack’s desk with his mouth lying open to drool on some of the papers scattered around. The guy might’ve been some smaller than Jack, but anything felt better than his own sad masturbation routines. He eased him on to finish faster with some encouraging words. His cock felt so warm and his ass was so full-

Then, like the gods of Elpis had some sort of a death sentence for Rhys, the man of all men walked in.

Rhys was pretty sure he peeled off some of his cheek’s skin cells with how fast he ripped his face up from the desk he’d been sweating over. “Fuck, fuck fuck, get out you asshole, get out,” Rhys pushed back, digging his claws into the lackey’s hips behind him. “Get the fuck out of here or we’re _both_  dead.”

Jack kept walking forward, hands clenched into fists. His face, oh Rhys wish he didn’t see it. That huge, wicked, devil grin was on his face. “Look at this! My boy Rhysie gettin’ some fuckin’ dick!” He bellowed, still stalking towards Rhys and the nameless man. Rhys felt the guy pull out of him at lightning speed, then ducked down to grab up his pants from his ankles. He didn’t bother zipping, then ran to Jack, down the steps of his elevated work space and to his boss.

“Jack! Jack, I swear to God I can explain,” Rhys clutched onto the lapels of Jack’s coat and pressed up against him. It was a dangerous game to play, getting so physical with Jack right after he witnessed what just went down. He saw the man from earlier scrambling across the room from the corner of his eye, then looked up to see Jack with his cougar-like eyes, peering at his prey.

_"You!"_  Stop running like a Goddamn pansy. And _you_ ,” Jack shot his glance to Rhys, “Go get yourselves some fucking chairs, cause you got some major excuses to pull out of your whore ass right now.”

Rhys nodded, eyes utterly lost, eyebrows upturned in complete devastation, and lips quivering with fear. He pushed himself away from Jack, and rushed back up to the CEO’s desk. His bottom was planted down in one of the chairs opposite of the yellow throne, heart pounding like a baby rabbit when he heard Jack’s shoes thud against the tiles, and then an aggravated growl leave his lips, “You _literal fucking idiot_ , get up there!” And then he also heard the poor soul’s dress shoes clacking up the steps until he was glued down onto the seat beside Rhys.

Jack soon followed, grabbing at the back of Rhys’ neck as he passed around the desk, tugging at his baby hairs until he was too far away, then slumped into his seat. His elbows rested against the desk, fingers laced together and eyes wide, staring at the two men before him with eagerness.

“You think Daddy’s mad, huh Rhysie?”

“Yes, Jack, I’m sorry, I’m _so_  sorry- Please, let me explain-” Jack shook his head. He let out one of his little chuckles, grinning furiously.

“Oh, baby, you’ve got it all wrong! This should be a step in the right direction for us!” Jack exclaimed, unlocking his hands and waving an open palm to the man next to Rhys. “You took a chance and told me that you wanted to bring some spice into the relationship!”

Rhys shook in his seat, eyes hopelessly confused. The man next to him didn’t look much better - pale, sick to his stomach, probably. The amber haired boy wanted to shake his head, leave and probably throw up his guts in anxiety, but he kept his mouth shut and stayed still. Jack rambled on. This was a good thing for them! Communication is key! Rhysie, Cupcake, tell Jack when you want to bring in something new to the relationship! Rhys kept nodding.

Jack leaned forward in his seat. “Is there anything you want to say for yourself, Sugar?”

Rhys opened his mouth, an ugly sob left his throat before he actually spoke, “Yes, Jack, I did something wrong and I- I want to apologize.” Jack nodded, brows knitting together in what seemed like authenticity. Maybe he was honestly considering a poly relationship… “I just- I _missed_  you so much, and I couldn’t stand being alone. I was so _stupid_  doing this behind your back-”

_" **Bingo!** "_   


Before Rhys could even blink, Jack had stood up and shot point blank at his affair’s face. Blood and brain splat onto the left side of his face, covering his body in hot, irony red. Rhys couldn’t look. His heart hammered in his chest. Jack was _really_  angry now. Extremely. He swallowed in attempt to wet his dry throat, breathing through his mouth to try and calm his raging heart.

“You fucking _idiot!_  God, Rhysie, you really were buying that for a minute, weren’t you? I must be a better actor than I thought.” Jack walked around to the dead man in the chair, grabbed him by the vest and threw him to the ground beside the desk. He kicked the chair out of the way, only smiling wider as Rhys jumped from the noises it made when it toppled down the few stairs. “C’mere, Baby,” Jack coaxed the man out from his seat, tugging him by his tie when he didn’t go at the pace he desired. Rhys sniffled, tears already streaking his cheeks, and yelped out in pain when Jack kicked the back of his leg and pushed him onto his knees. “Get on top of him. Take a _real_  good look at his face.” And the younger of the two did, crawling on top of the lifeless body and straddling his hips. “That big ol’ hole in the side of his head is because of what _you_  did!” Rhys whipped around faster than the speed of sound when Jack tapped his shoulder with the barrel of his gun. He held it out for Rhys. “Take it and smash that Goddamn hole. Crack his face open until I can’t see nothin’ left.

Rhys knew better than to fight. He took the pistol with his shaky hands, holding the warm neck of the gun, the grip facing away from him, and raised his hands above his head. With one long, whining breath, he snapped his arms down and slammed the blunt end of the gun into the already gushing hole in his previous partner’s head. “Again.” He obeyed. Another sickening crack of bone shards plunging into squishing brain matter echoed inside his head. He audibly cried. This was so fucking _sick_. “Again, Rhys. God, do I have to tell you everything? Do you want me to show you? You too damn thick to get it through your head?”

He couldn’t respond before Jack squatted beside him, chest heaving with laughter. He pulled the bloody gun from his PA’s shaking hands, and got a firm grip on Rhys’ sweaty hair with his left. “Watch closely.” His voice was suddenly smooth, filling his head with falsities of comfort. Rhys inhaled deeply, sniffing up his snot and filling his head with the smell of metallic red.

Then Jack’s hold on his hair got uncontrollably tight, painful, and the man underneath his body was becoming faceless. Jack smacked the butt of the gun into his face more times than he could count, a dizzying amount of squelches cursed Rhys’ ears, and his eyes were so blurry with tears he could barely see more than a once handsome face becoming a mess of disaster. Jack was shaking in euphoria. “That’s more like it!” He moaned, tossing his Maliwan manufactured, Hyperion bought gun aside, and applied brute force to the back of Rhys’ skull. His face was pressed into that revolting mess.

Rhys squealed in utter terror, instinctively inhaling and getting globs of thick, coagulated blood inside his nose. Jack was yelling in sheer joy above him, laughing as he held down the boy’s head, watching him flail about and scream into the caved in head. After a few seconds of watching Rhys absolutely _flip his shit_ , he lifted the boy up again and took in the breathtaking sight of his bloody face, snotty nose, and wet eyes. Beautiful.

“Get undressed again, ‘kay? I’m gonna get some lube.”

Rhys felt his stomach jump up into his throat, dry heaving over the body once before working up the energy to get naked for Jack. He was used to Jack killing people, even some people he had gotten along with in the office, but this much closer and much, _much_  messier than any of the other killings had ever been. Rhys was sick, but he had no ill thoughts of Jack. He deserved this. He was stupid enough to try and play Handsome Jack.

Jack was back behind him, pushing him back over the dead body once his clothes were off. His naked body was so smooth and pale. It was gonna get painted with crimson, and that made Jack’s skin crawl. It all played out so nicely in his head.

“No prep for you baby boy, you keep your mouth closed or I’ll stuff his fucking eyes down your throat.” Jack pressed his lubed up cock to Rhys’ puffy hole and thrusted forward. Rhys wailed out and Jack grunted at the tightness of it all. It hurt like a bitch, but he fucking loved every minute of it. He clasped a bloody hand around Rhys’ throat and pulled him lower, getting his ass up high and his face closer to the gore. Rhys closed his eyes and grabbed onto the hand at his neck. He wasn’t trying to pull it away, only get a grip on something to keep him away from the mess. The ground was too slippery with blood to get purchase on anything.

It wasn’t long before Jack was smoothly fucking him open, like some Goddamn sex angel blessed Rhys’ ass with the honor of being filled. He felt ashamed to say it felt good at a moment like this.  Jack wrapped a hand around his cock and pumped it to it’s fullest. Rhys shivered, feeling so wrong that his stomach gurgled in disgust.

Rhys retched, over and over, some foam leaving his throat and filling his mouth. He halfheartedly spat it out, feeling it dribble down his lips and heard it splat into the open cavity below him. He groaned in resentment, and whined with pleasure.

Jack’s hips drilled into him with such force that Rhys’ own hips began to lower, knees slipping farther apart and dropping down his waist. His cock began to brush against the pants on his previous mate, which only spurred Rhys closer to an orgasm. Jack moaned into his hair, then bit the nape, so hard and painful that a hot, metallic taste splashed against his teeth and covered his gums. Rhys _screamed_  in a flurry of senses that overwhelmed him and drove him towards a pivotal moment for his climax. In a fit, Rhys’ hips tried surging back and forward all at once, cum splurting from his heavily leaking tip and coating the crotch on the pants of his affair that laid below him. Jack’s hand gripped the back of his auburn hair and rammed his face back into the gore underneath him. Rhys shrieked again, mushy bits filling his mouth as he inhaled desperately for any air at all, winded by his intense release.

Jack held his partner down there for a long, long time, keeping Rhys ass up, face down until his own cock gave a violent twitch and his sperm filled his boy. Rhys had heaved up frothy stomach bile into the mess his face was smushed into, which made Jack itch all the more. He bit his lip and gave one last, rough thrust into the slippery hole before pulling out.

He tugged Rhys up one more time and let the younger man slump down on his ass, too lazy to hold himself up on his knees any longer. Jack stood to shuffle around in front of him, shove his softening, wet head into those bloody lips that desperately tried to take in copious amounts of air, and watched himself get cleaned off by a pretty pink tongue. With one last, brilliant idea, Jack pulled away and crouched down, scooping up a handful of blood that was warmly accompanied with a few chunks of whatever the fuck, and pressed his fingers into Rhys’ mouth once more.

Rhys’ face soured, but he knew what would come if he tried to resist at this point.

“Good job, Pumpkin! Now, get to work on cleaning this up. Don’t even think about cryin’, or I’ll rip out your own eyes and feed em’ to ya! Got it?"

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually my first gore piece. Let me know if there is anything I need to improve on/practice! Thanks for reading. :-)


End file.
